


Leave Me Weak

by moonbeambucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Blood Donation, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbeambucky/pseuds/moonbeambucky
Summary: Donating blood was the last thing you wanted to do but you find that something else leaves you weak.





	Leave Me Weak

**Author's Note:**

> Written on tumblr for @themaskedwriter

You knew this was a mistake.

Pushing your way onto the street in the pitch black night you pass through a small crowd outside the nightclub, with clouds of smoke drying out your already tired eyes.

Even though you lived in “the city that never sleeps” it wasn’t a rule you followed. You were accustomed to a very strict sleeping schedule for work that would normally have you waking up at this time but Nakia’s bachelorette party was not something you could miss, even if you knew you’d be paying for it later.

Sometimes you missed weekends like this, where you could stay out until the sun rose in the sky, sobering up with greasy fries smothered in cheese and steaming cups of freshly brewed coffee.

Mmmm coffee. You need to have some as soon as possible, especially if you’re expected to be up for the next few hours preparing the baked goods for the crowds that filtered into the Excelsior Bakery.

You had been working there for a while before the owner Mr. Lee had asked if you were interested in taking over the business. Your passion for baking was evident and he was happy to sell to someone he trusted.

The transition from worker to owner was scary but you were lucky to have Stan stay on to help. To ensure your success he continued to come in weekly and hand paint his famous sugar cookies.

They were Excelsior’s signature hit, square shaped cookies covered in royal icing with Stan’s original characters intricately portrayed on them. You marveled at the detail he put into each cookie and loved hearing about the characters; each a superhero he made up for his children’s bedtime stories.

You rubbed the chill of the night from your bare arms as an Uber took you to work. Unlocking the side door you flipped the light on in the large kitchen. It was quiet for now though soon the additional baking staff would join you.

Entering your office you quickly swapped your champagne sequined tank top for a comfortable cotton Excelsior Bakery t-shirt and let your aching feet rest in a pair of casual slip-ons as you put your heels aside. Your dark jeans were normal enough to wear to work though after a long night of drinking and dancing you wished you had a pair of leggings instead.

As you were preparing the coffee you heard the side door open as the loud voices carried throughout the back of the bakery. In walked Scott, Clint and Vis, who were way too upbeat for this hour as they greeted you, hanging their coats on the wall.

“Mornin’ guys,” you replied, looking over your shoulder as you anxiously waited for the pot to finish brewing.

When the coffee was finished you couldn’t help but take the first large cup for yourself; your slightly buzzed and very exhausted body needed the caffeine immediately.

Leaning against the table you lifted the mug to your mouth and instantly the three men were stricken with laughter. After swallowing the delicious brew you quirked your head at the group, wondering what caused the sudden giggle outburst.

As you brought the cup down from your lips your fingers brushed against the culprit making your eyes widen in horror. Christine, a colleague of Nakia’s, had insisted everyone wear tacky penis necklaces, one you just realized you had forgotten to take off.

Vis’ grin peaked through the hands that covered his eyes, while Scott was keeled over laughing hysterically.

Clint wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as he proclaimed, “I’ll never let you live this one down, boss.”

Slamming the mug on the counter you quickly took the necklace off and shoved it in your pocket, opting to throw it out at home because you were wary of what these pranksters would do with it here.

Once they calmed down and Scott no longer resembled a tomato you all began preparing the fresh goods for the day. Soon all different types of breads and rolls were rising the oven, as you finished making crumb cake, turnovers and other pastries, yawning as you set them to bake.

Your baking was done but unfortunately you couldn’t rest yet, inventory still needed to be done along with some bookkeeping. A third cup of coffee sounded tempting but you needed to eat and while you loved all the delicious sweets you made you knew you wanted something more substantial.

The air was still chilly in the early morning so you asked to borrow Scott’s hoodie as you walked to the corner of the next block. You frequented this deli out of convenience, even though your rolls were a million times better. By the time you got back to Excelsior you had to set the sandwich aside to deal with a delivery.

The hazard lights were blinking on the large box truck as you held the door open for M’Baku, the even larger delivery driver, who kindly carried in your order of flour.

“Hey man,” Clint affectionately greeted him as he slipped outside with Scott following behind as their work was finished.

“Scott, wait!” He turned around just as he got to the sidewalk. “Your hoodie,” you shouted, gesturing to yourself still wearing it.

“Leave it in the lounge, I’ll pick it up tomorrow,” he yelled, sending back a smile.

Back inside Vis worked on baking cakes as you settled in your office. Scott’s hoodie hung over the back of the chair you sunk into as you unwrapped your sandwich. A knock at your door alerted your attention to Darcy, a long time employee you recently promoted to assistant manager. She informed you the latest hire Miles, had just arrived for his first day.

Leaving the sandwich again you greeted Miles, assuring that he was in good hands with Darcy and his other shift employee Kamala.

Miles’ father worked in the same precinct as your friend Wanda’s brother, becoming hooked on Excelsior from the moment Pietro brought in a box of pastries. Officer Davis stopped in for coffee and snacks quite often after that and when he saw the help wanted sign he told Miles to apply for the job.

Miles had a few questions and though Darcy was just as capable to answer them you did so yourself, showing him the same kindness Stan showed you when you began.

You returned to the sandwich and took an unsatisfying bite of cold eggs and cheese on a roll. Oh well. It sat mainly to the side as you went over some paperwork, stifling a yawn as your tired eyes drowned in the sea of words. You felt your head nodding forward in slow motion, and there was nothing you could do to prevent it. Your shoulders slumped down as you fell into a slightly uncomfortable but much needed rest.

The loud vibrations of your phone buzzing on the desk startled you awake and for a moment your sleep deprived mind needed to gather its bearings before realizing you were at work and not in your comfortable bed, the place you were desperately craving.

Yawning again you rubbed your eyes, acutely aware you might be smudging last night’s makeup all over your face. The phone buzzed once more as a reminder, and you picked it up finding a text from Wanda.

No.

Not today.

Any day but today.

You read over Wanda’s text reminding you about the blood drive over at the fire station this morning. You promised her you’d donate, knowing how important it was to her after Pietro had been shot on the job and blood transfusions helped save his life.

You wanted to go, you promised you would go, but you  _really_ didn’t want to go today. You were more than exhausted and needed rest, but realistically if you went home for a nap you would definitely sleep through your alarm. Donate blood, then sleep. That was the plan.

Vis began working on a large cake order for Stark Industries and asked your assistance in helping him gather the ingredients.

He entered the large walk in refrigerator to grab eggs and milk while you assembled the rest of what he needed on the large butcher block counters. You eyed the heavy bag of flour, ambitiously thinking you could lift it on limited sleep and drained energy.

Bending your knees you gripped the bag that seemed to fight against you, causing you to tug with more force, bringing only the half ripped top of the bag up with you as you stood. Clouds of white smoke surrounded you, with puffs of flour floating off of the fabric of your shirt with every move you made.

“This is not your day,” Vis commented from a distance.

Your unamused face turned towards him, saying nothing as you sighed and then began to cough as you choked on flour that you inhaled.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could in the bathroom. Your dark jeans had a white-washed fade to them and your t-shirt was now rinsing in the sink. No amount of wet paper towel would have been enough to clean the shirt whose fibers engulfed the flour like it was their last meal.

Opening the bathroom door a crack you called out for Darcy, who eyed your mostly bare skin through the door with curious concern.

“Couldja get my top from the office? It should be in the bottom drawer with my heels?”

Darcy returned, admiring the sparkly top as she held it up before handing it to you.

Once you were certain your hair, face and the rest of your body was free from flour you exited the bathroom, letting Vis and Darcy know you were leaving.

“Bedtime?” Darcy asked, following you to your office.

“I wish,” you sighed, grabbing your phone. “I promised my friend Wanda I’d donate blood at the firehouse so I have to head there first.”

Darcy’s head shook with laughter as she pointed at your ensemble. “And you’re going there dressed like that?”

You grimaced as you thought about it; a sequined tank top was a bit extra for a blood drive. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think I’ll keep borrowing Scott’s hoodie until tomorrow,” you said, slipping your arms into the large sleeves and zipping it up all the way.

***

The strong morning sun blinded your eyes through the gaps of the skyscrapers as you walked to the fire station. It was going to be warm today, you could already feel yourself sweating in Scott’s hoodie. Grabbing your phone you texted Wanda letting her know you were on your way.

Ambulances were parked on the block leading up to the fire station though red balloons caught your attention; they were tied to a large plastic sign on the sidewalk promoting the blood drive. You checked your phone finding Wanda hadn’t texted back yet but you went inside anyway hoping by some chance she was already there.

Surprisingly a small crowd had built up despite the early morning hour. The room was packed with broad figured firefighters and paramedics lining the walls and medical students tending to people already in the process of donating. Volunteers were everywhere, serving juice and cookies at a table in the back and handling the registration process for the line you were in.

Wanda was not in sight so you texted her again warning that you’ll be donating soon and would need her by your side. You weren’t afraid of the needle going in but the idea of it sitting under your skin irked you and you needed her as a distraction.

After handing in your paperwork you were nervously bouncing your leg as you sat down and waited, checking your phone for the millionth disappointing time to see there was no response.

Upon hearing your name called you looked up and were greet by a very young looking kid. He introduced himself as Peter and though he looked seventeen his ID badge proved he was in fact a med student at Metro-General Hospital.

Your stomach twisted with nerves as you sat back on a cot, comfortably crossing your legs as you watched Peter slip his hands into latex gloves and slowly collect the items he needed to draw blood. He whispered to himself, methodically going through the steps of what he should be doing.

His meticulousness should have been comforting as he checked over his tools, allowing more time for Wanda to show up. Your nerves began to bubble over more as you worried if something happened to her.

The packaged needle crinkled in Peter’s hands but he was quickly stopped by a leggy brunette in a long white lab coat.

“Mr. Parker, did you check her blood pressure first?” the woman sternly asked, knowing her answer as she had been observing him and the other students from the center of the floor.

Peter cleared his throat nervously, “Oh, uh, no Ms. Hill. I’ll do that now.” He let out an uncomfortable chuckle and she nodded in return.

With the blood pressure cuff in his hand Peter wrapped it around your sleeve and began to pump the bulb. The cuff tightened around your arm and Peter was focused on reading the dial but Ms. Hill calling his name out interrupted the process.

“Mr. Parker, can you tell me what’s incorrect?”

Peter checked that he placed the cuff in the proper spot, his eyes running along your frame until he noticed his error.

“Oh, um, miss, could you uncross your legs?” he asked, throwing a hint of a smile towards Ms. Hill who turned away.

You felt bad for Peter as he resumed taking your blood pressure. You couldn’t imagine how stressful his job could be. Being covered in flour was annoying but the thought of blood and other body fluids getting all over you made you feel sick.

When it was time to finally take your blood Peter asked for your arm, giving him your left one after rolling up the sleeves. You squeezed a ball a few times before he tied off the top of your arm with a painful elastic that squeezed your skin.

“There’s g-going to be a little pinch, okay?” Peter said to gently warn you, though hearing the shakiness of his own voice did nothing to calm your nerves.

You turned your head away as Peter began, tightening your core at the intrusion of the needle that felt worse than a little pinch and tried to breathe through the mildly uncomfortable pain. The sharpness beneath your skin continued and though you didn’t look it felt like Peter was stabbing you internally as he searched for a vein.

Picturing the needle inside your arm did nothing to calm your nerves so you searched for something else to focus on since Wanda was not there. A loud burst of laughter caught your attention and you looked over to see a group huddled together.

There were two men in FDNY shirts that threatened to split at the seams across their massive muscles. They had similar looks with blond hair and beards though they were distinctly different. The shorter of the two by a few inches, had longer blond hair with a full dark beard, while the other’s facial hair was fairer though his cropped hair had a darker tinge to it.

Your face squeezed tightly in pain as Peter apologized, claiming he was having trouble with your veins.

“It’s okay,” you lied, focusing your attention back to the group.

Hunk 1 and Hunk 2 were talking to two other equally large and handsome men wearing shirts with an emergency services logo on the back. The loudest of the group was a dark man with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. His laughter was contagious as he tipped his head back, palming the shoulder of the long haired man next to him he looked to be teasing.

Hissing in pain at the sharpness you felt you couldn’t help but look at your arm, seeing the silver needle prodding your skin. You weren’t a medical professional by any means, in fact the only brush with saving lives you’ve had is when Scott once choked on a Tic-Tac and you gave him the Heimlich maneuver, but you could tell something was wrong.

“Umm, Peter,” you meekly spoke, “That doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to try the other arm, okay? I think it’s the vein,” he said, convincing himself.

He undid the elastic and you could see the difference in skin tone from where it had been cut off by the band. Withdrawing the needle from your skin, he placed a cotton ball there, applying pressure for a few minutes before he asked you to take over.

Peter grabbed a bright blue roll of a self-adherent wrap that he applied around your arm. The uncomfortable way it clung to your skin added to your ever-building nerves. Sweat pooled on the back of your neck though you found relief rolling up the other sleeve, feeling the cool air comfort you skin before the elastic wrapped around your arm again. You squeezed the ball tightly, venting all your frustrations out through every pump of your hand.

Peter opened a new needle and you caught his gaze before he began. He looked confident and so you inhaled deeply, in search once more of the hunks to distract you. They had moved closer to the refreshment table and catching your eye was the man from before, whose long chestnut hair fell in front of his face as he leaned down to grab a cup of orange juice.

When he stood up you were mesmerized by full pink lips and the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. He was drop dead gorgeous but judging by the way he held himself it didn’t seem like he would believe you if you told him. He was the most reserved out of the group, sporting a shy smile every time Hunk 3 said something and pointed to him.

“Ow!”

You didn’t mean to shout so loud, drawing attention is the last thing you wanted. You couldn’t even bear to glance at the huddle of hunks, instead focusing on Peter who was apologizing profusely.

Reluctantly he called over Ms. Hill and she had another med student named MJ come over to have Peter observe her. She inserted the needle into your vein with ease and silently judged Peter through her side glance before leaving.

By the time you officially began donating blood you received a text from Wanda, apologizing after she was stuck on FaceTime with her mom in Sokovia for longer than she expected.

You were thankful she was alright, texting her back about your bad experience so far. You told her not to bother coming since you would be finished soon, passing the time on your phone or occasionally sneaking glances at Hunk 4; he had caught your eye the most.

It felt like you were laying there for hours as your blood flowed like sludge in a pipe. People that were seated after you were now long gone. Shifting slightly against the cot made the needle twinge inside your arm and you really couldn’t wait until this was over with. Scott’s hoodie felt like your own personal sauna and you wanted so desperately to get out of it and into pajamas.

Peter kept checking on your progress and finally when you filled the container he, with Ms. Hill shrewdly watching over his shoulder, removed the needle from your vein and placed another blue wrap around your skin.

After thanking Peter you began to walk towards the refreshment table that suddenly seemed so far away as a wave of lightheadedness washed over you. If you could just get to the juice and cookies you would be fine. You had already been here for so long you wanted to get out.

Though you were burning up your skin was clammy, and sweat beaded on your forehead but you were determined to get to the table. It was a slow trudge, like shuffling your legs through thick mud. You’re almost there. Your vision is spotty and starting to fade but if you push a little harder you could make it.

Your ears fail you as they begin to clog. A soft voice coming from the indiscernible figure beside you asks a question. It’s muffled, as if you’re underwater but you’re able to figure out what they said.

“I’m fine,” you insisted not wanting to make a scene.

The table is barely visible but you’re right there, reaching out for the cup of juice you presume is in front of you. Your hands never made it though, as your body began its descent to the ground.

***

Bright fluorescent lights were shining behind the shadowy outline that hunched over you.

“There she is,” a man said.

You blinked a few times as your vision came back fully, noticing you were lying on a cot that had been tilted so your head was down and your legs were elevated. You asked what happened as your eyes began to focus on the curtain of hair that hung in front of the figure above you. He tucked the strands behind his ears to reveal familiar blue eyes.

Oh no. Hunk 4.

“You passed out,” Hunk 4 said, “All the color was drainin’ from your face. You almost fell but I caught you in time.”

You covered your eyes with your hands out of embarrassment, hoping this was a dream.  _Please wake up Y/N._  When you heard the hunk’s soft chuckle you knew this was unfortunately real.

“My name’s Bucky and I’m a paramedic. Is it okay if I check your vitals?”

He asked for your name and smiled when you said it. Bucky gave off a comforting vibe and even though you were incredibly embarrassed from passing out he didn’t make a big deal about it.

Beside him was a small equipment bag, those beautiful eyes made contact with your own as he dug around for a stethoscope. His lips pulled into a tender smile as he asked you to unzip your hoodie.

Inhaling deeply you looked away, too embarrassed to face him again as you exposed the sequined top that was not appropriate for a morning blood donation.

“That’s pretty,” Bucky commented, placing the end of the stethoscope above your heart. “Doesn’t match your blue bandages though.”

The laughter that floated from your lips instantly became Bucky’s favorite sound. He was drawn to the way your smile warmed your face and noticed how beautiful you were as your eyes crinkled in delight. Listening to your steady heartbeat, he was thankful you couldn’t hear the way his own had definitely skipped in rhythm.

Warmth spread throughout your body as his soft fingers pressed against your inner wrist to check your pulse. Bucky’s wide smile and twinkling eyes definitely made your heart beat faster and you hoped he couldn’t tell.

Your eyes followed the lines of his smooth skin, up his arm towards the prominent vein that spread across his bulging biceps. You regret passing out, for obvious reasons, but mainly because you missed out on what it was like to be held in those strong arms.

Bucky asked you something though you didn’t pay attention as it finally struck you, he has been staring at you at the most unflattering angle possible ever since you woke up.

“Uhh, Bucky, can I sit up now?” you practically begged.

He asked how you were feeling and no matter the truth you would have told him you were doing much better. He adjusted the cot to a sitting position and turned around, calling out a name. Suddenly Hunk 3, otherwise known as Sam, was walking towards you with a cup of juice.

“Oooh!” Sam exclaimed, taking notice of your top. “How’re you feelin’ Sparkles?” He joked a little too loudly for your liking.

“’M good, thanks,” you said, taking the cup from his hand.

Hunks 1 and 2 came over as well to check up on you and though you appreciated their concern the attention made you want to crawl into Scott’s hoodie like a turtle and never come out again. Bucky sensed your discomfort and kindly asked Sam and the other hunks to give you some space.

“Thanks. I hate making a scene,” you said, offering an appreciative smile in between sips of orange juice.

“That’s the wrong shirt to wear at a firehouse then,” he chuckled, though he was intrigued as to your choice of outfit.

Bucky’s unasked questions were answered as you explained the bachelorette party, going into details about heading straight to work, hardly eating and then leaving after the flour explosion.

“Oh, so that’s what’s on your ear!”

“What?!” you panicked, rubbing your ears with your fingers.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled tightly as laughter bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, erupting from his mouth. “I’m just kidding Y/N!”

“Don’t scare me like that!” you feigned anger through a relieved smile, “I might pass out again!” you joked.

“Yeah you just might. Why did you think it was a good idea to donate blood after a night of drinking, no sleep and not eating?”

Bucky’s question wasn’t accusatory, in fact the expression in his eyes showed just how much concern he felt for you. You began to explain Wanda and her brother, and the promise you forgot you made to donate blood today.

“That’s real sweet of ya,” he said, with the hint of a Brooklyn accent coming through. “I work the night shift a lot too so I know how easy it is to forget these things, ‘specially when you’re tired.”

“Tell me about it, I’m exhausted,” you said, covering your mouth as talking about sleep brought out a large yawn.

“I bet you are, but uh… well here’s the thing,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Since you really didn’t eat anything today what do you say you let me take you out for breakfast?” he asked, with a hopeful smile.

Your eyes widened at his proposal and Bucky wasn’t sure if that was a positive reaction. He hadn’t asked anyone on a date in far longer than he wanted to admit and he knew he was rusty.

“As a concerned medical professional I gotta make sure you don’t pass out again,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip as he waited for your response.

A wide smile spread across your face as you accepted his offer and it felt like he could breathe again.

Bucky helped you stand, assuring that you were steady and held your hoodie up as you slipped your arms in. As you zipped yourself up he leaned over the cot, grabbing something and studying it curiously.

“Uhh… is this…” he laughed, holding out the palm of his hand to reveal the penis necklace.

They might as well take all the blood from your body since you practically died on the spot.

“This is the worst day of my life,” you deadpanned.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, offering his arm out for you to hold. On your way towards the door you passed by the smiling hunks with Sam smirking at you both. Bucky slapped his hand, placing the penis necklace in his palm leaving Sam very confused as the two of you walked away.

It was a quick walk to the place Bucky wanted to take you for breakfast, a trendy little spot with exposed brick and wood beams and old floors that creaked under your step. A relaxed voice from behind the counter belonging to a man with a waxed mustache told you to seat yourselves.

Leading you to a table near the window, Bucky pulled out a mismatched chair for you before he sat down. You glanced around the room, spying lights strung across the ceiling and distressed furniture repurposed as the wait stations.

Menus were brought over and reading through the details of each item made your mouth water. Your starving stomach wanted all of it as you continued to scan through every delicious offering.

“So let’s get all of it,” Bucky replied to the comment you thought you said in your head.

“What?” your head lifted to see the sincerity in Bucky’s eyes.

Though he hardly knew you, Bucky was already willing to give you the world if you asked for it.

“No! I mean, I don’t think I could eat all of it anyway. Some of it, but not all,” you joked.

Bucky’s tongue poked out to wet his lips as he chuckled. “Y/N I mean it, get whatever you want. After donating you need to indulge.”

“Paramedic’s orders?” you asked with coy glint in your eyes.

A smile cemented itself on Bucky’s face as he replied, “That’s right doll, paramedic’s orders.”

By the time your server came around you decided to order avocado toast with a fried egg along with French toast that you insisted Bucky share with you.

During the wait for food you got to know each other. Bucky was from Brooklyn where he shared an apartment with Hunk 1, otherwise known as Steve, his best friend.

“He’s a punk but I love ‘im,” Bucky said without hesitation.

You didn’t realize how long you had been smiling until your food arrived and the act of chewing hurt your sore cheeks. You couldn’t help it though, everything about Bucky made your heart sing with joy. He was handsome and kind, funny and caring. He was… disappearing from your vision as you yawned widely, covering your mouth with your hand.

You had been yawning for a while, ignoring the need for sleep to continue talking with Bucky but it was finally catching up to you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been selfish wantin’ to talk to ya all day,” he said.

“S’okay, I really didn’t want to leave either,” you admitted, sharing a smile with him.

Before leaving you exchanged numbers. “In case you feel faint,” Bucky said, nervously running his hands through his hair.

You caught the blush on his cheeks and felt your whole body fluttering. There was no doubt you would be calling him later; it was undeniable, Bucky Barnes made you weak.


End file.
